Confidence in his dad.

ALEC: "Mom, aren't I doing such a good job of setting up my chess pieces?"
ME: "Yes, Sweetie. Awesome."
ALEC: "Yeah. I think I'm going to set up Dad's pieces too."
ME: "That would be nice because Dad is busy trying to get Todd to do his jobs and that is a hard project because Todd is a little bit grouchy."
ALEC: "I don't think it will be hard for Dad."
ME: "Really?"
ALEC: "Yeah because Dad is so good at using his mean voices."

Countdown

For one more month...

I'm fast approaching 40 and really freaking out,
Not yet the girl I want to be, my sanity's in doubt.

At a glance, I have it all--great job, husband and kids,
But the looming big 4-0 has my stress level off the grid.

I guess I had a picture, a hope for what might be,
When I left behind my 30s and marched toward 40.

Where is my mark of wisdom? My temperance and calm?
I'm more unsettled than a teen preparing for the prom.

I want to feel mature and poised, strong and self-assured,
At what age can I expect insecurity to be cured?

They Hoped to be Called on a Mission

They hoped to be called on a mission,
They prayed and readied for the work,
They wanted to go somewhere special,
Where they could learn & serve & never would they shirk.

The call said, Go to Salt Lake City,
Please help to build the kingdom strong,
Prepare for lessons and for blessings,
Knowing well that you are right where you belong.

My mom and dad (aren't they are good looking couple?!) are going on an LDS mission. They will serve in the church office building as Construction Finance Specialists for 18 months beginning August 2nd. We couldn't be more thrilled for them to start this next adventure together and what a bonus that they will be so close to us!! I feel a lot of Temple Square trips coming on. Love you, Mom and Dad.

Remembering Sheri

Brent's little sister Sheri was 15 when Brent and I got married. She attended BYU Hawaii and served an LDS mission. Shortly after she married Eric, they moved to Lolo, Montana. Because our earthly acquaintance was relatively short, "remembering" Sheri feels more like recalling the feeling of her presence and loving her through the stories of Brent's family.

Sheri would have been 34 years old on Sunday. She passed away last August while giving birth to her second child. Yesterday we gathered to remember the blessing of her in our lives and to celebrate the selfless gift of her two daughters.

We started at the cemetery where we left notes, flowers and pictures at Sheri's grave site. We tied some messages to helium-filled balloons and the kids released them. We ate dinner and birthday cake at Brent's parents' home and finished by watching home videos of Sheri as a young girl.
Sheri's death causes me to think often of the things I know and believe. It is hard to reconcile how faith changes when it is tested in reality. Now the things that I know feel so small compared to those I don't and I think that was probably the same for Sheri.

Sheri knew that Eric was the right guy for her...that he was cute, funny, kind and good. She didn’t know what an incredible parent he would be with or without her.

Sheri knew that she wanted to be a mother. Even when it was hard and tiring, she was grateful for the experience. She didn’t know that her time as a mom would be so short.

Sheri knew that having children would require hard work and sacrifice. She didn’t know that she would have to literally forfeit her life for her daughters.

I know that our families can be together again after this life. I don’t know why learning and really understanding the importance of this comforting knowledge can hurt so much sometimes.

I love you, Sheri.

O Canada. Go Canada!

My particular mix of anxiety and pessimism is not a good combo for sports viewing. I really want my teams to win but doubt they will. I balance this dysfunction with enough sports apathy, however, that I don't get too excited by a win or too upset by a loss. It is especially buggy when avid fans of opposing teams feel the need to rub in their victories. I smile and feign more disappointment than I feel and hope that my forbearance will bring their silence. Really? Who has enough mental and emotional space in their brain and heart to have more than 3-1/2 minutes of post-game life affected by something you have exactly zero control over? I prefer to spend my energies berating myself for skipping a run or cussing my dirty house not on choosing the wrong group of athletes to support.

Knowing that friends and acquaintances would ask about the Olympics being held in Canada, I watched a lot of the coverage so that I could participate in 17 days worth of small talk. Doubt and distress ignited when the cauldron didn't at the opening ceremonies. My apprehension grew as U.S. commentators dwelt on poor Canadian performances of the Olympic past. I suffered many a cardiac arrhythmia and near suffocation from holding my breath that the motherland would pull through. I hated, hated, hated that the U.S. men's hockey team beat Canada in the first round of tournament play. A friend at work made sure I knew his feelings on the topic and I didn't have to feign dissatisfaction this time. My mental status sustaining apathy had evaporated. Over the next several days, I was buoyed by other great Canadian performances but couldn't erase the burning hope that Team Canada would spank the U.S. in the final hockey game. I checked the internet throughout the game knowing I couldn't watch without risking my heart's health. Finally, with 43 seconds left in the last period, I turned on the TV and cheered confidently for 19 seconds...until the U.S. tied the game. Hopes dashed I debated staying tuned for the overtime period but decided to see my team through. When we scored, I reservedly cheered until Todd informed and assured me (three times) that it was a sudden death overtime. A swell of relief filled the part of me that normal sports fans cram with rejoicing. I wasn't nearly as happy as I was freed from the angst of wishing for something you can't control. Blech. I hate sports.

My mild in-your-face celebration was wearing a Canada shirt to work on Monday and painting my fingernails like this.

(Hmmm. Maybe this is a Gang Canada sign. Yikes.)

On a related note, the women's team did great and caused me no worries at all. :)

St. George 1/2 and 5K.

This motley crew loves St. George and loves running in St. George even more!

On January 23rd we all ran the St. George 1/2 Marathon or 5K. Left-to-right is me, Brent, Eric (Brent's brother-in-law), Scott (Brent's dad), Andrea (Brent's sister) and Nate (Andrea's husband, Brent's brother-in-law.)

Brent ran the 1/2 marathon with a goal to set a personal 1/2 record by running it in under 1:56 which he did...1:52:40!! Yay Brenty-Boo!
Brent has some lofty running goals and he is well on his way to smashing them all. Brent wants to set a marathon personal record at the Salt Lake City Marathon in April by running under 4:12 and run a sub 4 hour marathon at the Ogden Marathon in May. He has be running and training a ton and he is on-track to easily meet his expectations. So glad for him.

I ran the 1/2 too but my goal was only to finish upright and under 2:25 which I did. I've had a hard time training this winter. It's not too motivating to get up hours before the sun, breath in junk trapped by the inversion, and freeze your body to the bone. Too often I run, hit the shower, and jump right back into bed where greeted by my electric blanket left on high for that purpose. I wonder how many calories you burn when you go right back to sleep after running! Not enough as evidenced by the numbers on the scale. :(

Other awesome St. George activities included a runners' luncheon and birthday celebration for Brent's dad, swimming kids and plenty of cousin hooliganism.

I love St. George and I really love the wonderful people that love it with me.

Sometimes when you do this...

...you can fly.

At least, that's what Alec told me when I rounded the corner and found him in this pose.